“Come on, don’t you care even slightly about the well-being of your employees?”
Judy Hewson was running out of cards to play. Her meeting with Sal Padhi, the formidable leader of Monument Architecture was going poorly. She was sitting in the executive office of the Monument Architecture Prefab Factory. Through the large window to her left she could see workers running around on the factory floor, constructing pre-built housing units that would eventually be flown to their destination. She could hear the hammering of metal and the rumble of heavy machinery through the glass.
Padhi sat across from her, his slender hands folded, the same cold, calculating expression on his face that had greeted Judy when she first walked in.
Just from that look alone, Judy guessed the answer to her question. She sighed, deciding that it was all or nothing. She usually tried to be lighthearted in her meetings, but now it was time to play tough.
“Look,” she said, “At Yazda International, helping the citizens of Manta is our business. Team up with us and I can promise your workers will come to worship you. Ignore us and I can’t promise they won’t leave to join your competitors the first chance they get.”
Though of course, those weren’t the words that came out of her mouth. Judy had her LangStick, a thin layer of lipstick allowing her to speak any language. It was absolutely necessary for meetings with international companies. So now, she spoke to Padhi in his native tongue.
While Padhi tried to maintain his composure, Judy thought she saw his eye twitch slightly at the mention of his competitors. Finally, she was getting somewhere. But then suddenly, her communications device began buzzing.
A smooth, robotic voice began speaking into her ear. “Yazda International headquarters to Judy Hewson: Humanitarian emergency. Return to headquarters immediately.”
She groaned. This always seemed to happen when she was in an important meeting. She wondered what it could be this time. Usually it meant that two corporations were going to war, which seemed to be more common lately. If there were civilian areas that lay in-between, Yazda would need to pull them out before corporate security forces turned it into a war zone.
She stood up, “Just think about it, alright? If you continue to drug your builders with steroids, we’ll be forced to take action.”
And with that she turned and exited the office. The meeting was over, and Sal Padhi hadn’t said a single word. Armed security guards guided her to the roof of the factory where her VTOL was parked on the helipad. She got on board and the pilot began flying back to the Yazda headquarters. It was near the coast, so as they flew towards it, Judy could see the AsterCorp space elevator, which always dominated the skyline, getting bigger and bigger. Construction ships were buzzing around it like bees around a hive, the elevator was nearly complete.
She considered it an eyesore. Plus, she detested it for what it had done to Manta. International corporations fought to be the first to expand their businesses to space. They’d save billions by using the elevator instead of rockets, but the working class of Manta would be victimized.
The pilot landed the VTOL on the roof of Yazda Headquarters, a mid-sized skyscraper nestled between the mega-towers of the corporations. She stepped out of the vehicle and coughed. The air was always more polluted near the harbor. Looking up she saw that someone was already waiting for her.
A man was standing there who looked to be about middle aged, though of course it was hard to tell nowadays in the age of body modifications. While his clothing wasn’t shabby, it was horribly torn in places. There was definitely a contrast between him and Judy, when she exited the VTOL in her pristine business suit. The man’s movements were twitchy, and on his face he wore a look of terror. A Yazda security guard stood behind him. Once Judy drew closer, the man began to speak.
“Something bad is happening,” he said, and Judy noticed he spoke with an Arabic accent. Immigrants were always arriving in the city, since there were so many jobs available. “Someone is trying to hurt AsterCorp workers, we have to warn the city!”
“Slow down,” said Judy calmly, “Just tell me what happened, and start by introducing yourself.”
“I’m Muhammed Kumail, I work as a crane operator for AsterCorp. I’m a contractor, so I didn’t have to work today, so I went to Joypolis with my friend, Ricardo. There’s a new VR game there. It’s huge, with bright flashing lights and a chamber that you step into to play it. It looks like a fighting game, but it’s not really a game!”
He was talking fast now, his voice becoming louder and more frantic.
“Ricardo played it alone, I didn’t want to play. When Ricardo came out he was different, his eyes were glazed over, it was like he was in a trance. I beat him at every game we played after that, he wasn’t even paying attention.”
As Muhammed told his story, the elevator doors at the top of the roof opened and another guard stepped out, he was bald and had a long beard. He began walking towards them. Judy wondered what news he would have, but it would have to wait until after Muhammed’s story.
“Then we left and we were walking along the street. I was talking about work, and when I mentioned AsterCorp he attacked me!”
Muhammed shuddered as tried to relive the memory.
“He was like a wild animal, clawing, biting. I barely got away. I didn’t dare go to any of the corporate security forces, because I don’t know which one of them is behind it.”
With his story finished Muhammed was left gasping for air after talking so fast. While he was resting, Judy wasted no time. She tapped her communications device and began giving orders.
“I want a mobile security force at Joypolis on the double. Shut the place down if you have to, nobody is to play the….”
That’s when she saw it. The bearded guard had swung his arm towards Muhammed, as if to punch him. But no, there was a glint of metal, a hidden blade.
Judy didn’t have time to yell, but the look on her face must have been enough. Muhammed looked over his shoulder and jumped out of the way just in time. The blade missed his neck, but ripped his shoulder open, splattering blood onto the rooftop.
The other security guard tackled the assassin, slamming him to the ground and restraining him. At the same time, Judy heard sirens wailing from the building’s lower levels. Yazda was under attack.
“Come on!” she said, grabbing Muhammed’s arm as the man stared in horror at the wound on his shoulder. They ran to the elevator as the sirens got louder, though now there was another noise coming up from below, gunfire.
“We need to get to the armory,” said Judy, as she threw the door open, “I hope you know how to shoot a gun.”
Judy Hewson was running out of cards to play. Her meeting with Sal Padhi, the formidable leader of Monument Architecture was going poorly. She was sitting in the executive office of the Monument Architecture Prefab Factory. Through the large window to her left she could see workers running around on the factory floor, constructing pre-built housing units that would eventually be flown to their destination. She could hear the hammering of metal and the rumble of heavy machinery through the glass.
Padhi sat across from her, his slender hands folded, the same cold, calculating expression on his face that had greeted Judy when she first walked in.
Just from that look alone, Judy guessed the answer to her question. She sighed, deciding that it was all or nothing. She usually tried to be lighthearted in her meetings, but now it was time to play tough.
“Look,” she said, “At Yazda International, helping the citizens of Manta is our business. Team up with us and I can promise your workers will come to worship you. Ignore us and I can’t promise they won’t leave to join your competitors the first chance they get.”
Though of course, those weren’t the words that came out of her mouth. Judy had her LangStick, a thin layer of lipstick allowing her to speak any language. It was absolutely necessary for meetings with international companies. So now, she spoke to Padhi in his native tongue.
While Padhi tried to maintain his composure, Judy thought she saw his eye twitch slightly at the mention of his competitors. Finally, she was getting somewhere. But then suddenly, her communications device began buzzing.
A smooth, robotic voice began speaking into her ear. “Yazda International headquarters to Judy Hewson: Humanitarian emergency. Return to headquarters immediately.”
She groaned. This always seemed to happen when she was in an important meeting. She wondered what it could be this time. Usually it meant that two corporations were going to war, which seemed to be more common lately. If there were civilian areas that lay in-between, Yazda would need to pull them out before corporate security forces turned it into a war zone.
She stood up, “Just think about it, alright? If you continue to drug your builders with steroids, we’ll be forced to take action.”
And with that she turned and exited the office. The meeting was over, and Sal Padhi hadn’t said a single word. Armed security guards guided her to the roof of the factory where her VTOL was parked on the helipad. She got on board and the pilot began flying back to the Yazda headquarters. It was near the coast, so as they flew towards it, Judy could see the AsterCorp space elevator, which always dominated the skyline, getting bigger and bigger. Construction ships were buzzing around it like bees around a hive, the elevator was nearly complete.
She considered it an eyesore. Plus, she detested it for what it had done to Manta. International corporations fought to be the first to expand their businesses to space. They’d save billions by using the elevator instead of rockets, but the working class of Manta would be victimized.
The pilot landed the VTOL on the roof of Yazda Headquarters, a mid-sized skyscraper nestled between the mega-towers of the corporations. She stepped out of the vehicle and coughed. The air was always more polluted near the harbor. Looking up she saw that someone was already waiting for her.
A man was standing there who looked to be about middle aged, though of course it was hard to tell nowadays in the age of body modifications. While his clothing wasn’t shabby, it was horribly torn in places. There was definitely a contrast between him and Judy, when she exited the VTOL in her pristine business suit. The man’s movements were twitchy, and on his face he wore a look of terror. A Yazda security guard stood behind him. Once Judy drew closer, the man began to speak.
“Something bad is happening,” he said, and Judy noticed he spoke with an Arabic accent. Immigrants were always arriving in the city, since there were so many jobs available. “Someone is trying to hurt AsterCorp workers, we have to warn the city!”
“Slow down,” said Judy calmly, “Just tell me what happened, and start by introducing yourself.”
“I’m Muhammed Kumail, I work as a crane operator for AsterCorp. I’m a contractor, so I didn’t have to work today, so I went to Joypolis with my friend, Ricardo. There’s a new VR game there. It’s huge, with bright flashing lights and a chamber that you step into to play it. It looks like a fighting game, but it’s not really a game!”
He was talking fast now, his voice becoming louder and more frantic.
“Ricardo played it alone, I didn’t want to play. When Ricardo came out he was different, his eyes were glazed over, it was like he was in a trance. I beat him at every game we played after that, he wasn’t even paying attention.”
As Muhammed told his story, the elevator doors at the top of the roof opened and another guard stepped out, he was bald and had a long beard. He began walking towards them. Judy wondered what news he would have, but it would have to wait until after Muhammed’s story.
“Then we left and we were walking along the street. I was talking about work, and when I mentioned AsterCorp he attacked me!”
Muhammed shuddered as tried to relive the memory.
“He was like a wild animal, clawing, biting. I barely got away. I didn’t dare go to any of the corporate security forces, because I don’t know which one of them is behind it.”
With his story finished Muhammed was left gasping for air after talking so fast. While he was resting, Judy wasted no time. She tapped her communications device and began giving orders.
“I want a mobile security force at Joypolis on the double. Shut the place down if you have to, nobody is to play the….”
That’s when she saw it. The bearded guard had swung his arm towards Muhammed, as if to punch him. But no, there was a glint of metal, a hidden blade.
Judy didn’t have time to yell, but the look on her face must have been enough. Muhammed looked over his shoulder and jumped out of the way just in time. The blade missed his neck, but ripped his shoulder open, splattering blood onto the rooftop.
The other security guard tackled the assassin, slamming him to the ground and restraining him. At the same time, Judy heard sirens wailing from the building’s lower levels. Yazda was under attack.
“Come on!” she said, grabbing Muhammed’s arm as the man stared in horror at the wound on his shoulder. They ran to the elevator as the sirens got louder, though now there was another noise coming up from below, gunfire.
“We need to get to the armory,” said Judy, as she threw the door open, “I hope you know how to shoot a gun.”